


Helveginn

by sharkduck



Category: Stellamore (Visual Novel)
Genre: (although to be fair they're not enemies for long), (nobody can be enemies with Yesui she's too good), Agonizing slow burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Yesui Visits the Jotnar AU, i feel like im predicting halle's whole route. willowish studios blease hire me, will i stop writing yesui/halle fics at some point?? all signs point to No
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 22:32:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkduck/pseuds/sharkduck
Summary: Perhaps 'kidnapping' wasn't the proper term for this, although it came very, very close.Or, the AU, Yesui visits the jötnar mostly of her own free will, and she and Halle end up falling head over heels for each other. Somehow.





	1. Hver mun syngja mér

The pond water was frigid when Yesui fell in.

(No, not fell in – more like stumbled. _Tripped._ )

Any attempt of hers to try and swim to the surface was immediately blocked by the blanket of lotus leaves and lily pads that had covered the hole she made in their perfect, undisturbed little community. She gasped when she fell – _tumbled_ – in, mouth and throat filling with water that she attempted to cough up and she –

Gods, she was drowning, wasn’t she? Talk about worst fears come to life.

(Is this how Yesukhei felt when he –)

She had to get her bearings. Had to – otherwise she’d thrash around, and the rational part of her brain was rapidly being swallowed whole by the screaming, primal fear bearing down on her like a stampede. The pool was shallow – all she had to do was plant her hands on the slick pond bottom, push up. Get her feet under her. Stand.

Easy enough.

Waauru’s hands found her shoulders when her head breached the surface, yanking her out of the pond and back onto the little sandstone path around it, shivering and soaked like a dog stuck in the rain. She wrapped her arms around her, trying to keep her warm, scrubbing at her back to create as much friction as she could and keeping her close. She sucked in a breath of air – and it _was_ air, thank the sky – and looked down at her sopping clothes clinging to her skin and holding her to the ground like cement weights.

Her consciousness came back to her in waves – laughing. Whispers. Warm hands on her waist through the heavy, waterlogged silk and furs of her deel. Hard sandstone digging into her palms. The intoxicating smell of garden flowers in bloom. Dior’s smug face, seeing her brought low and backlit by the setting sun and glittering Rayet crystals.

She wanted to cry. Desperately so. Instead, she took a deep breath and brushed lily pads off of her shoulders and out of her hair, forcing herself to smile. It felt sad and on the verge of cracking even on her own face.

“My bad,” the courtiers in attendance ceased their tittering from behind their fans and hands, glancing between Yesui, Waauru’s furious face – mouth half-open to deliver a scathing tirade – and Dior’s fading self-satisfied smirk. “I’ve gone and made a mess of things, haven’t I?” She took a deep breath, making herself to stand, ignoring the way her voice shook.

“I’ll go and get out of your hair now – if you have need of me, I’ll be in my rooms.” She passed Dior on her way out, Waauru’s hand on her back, and tried not to cry at the hard line of their mouth and their annoyance at her falsified amicability.

“Gods, Yesui, I’m so sorry,” Waauru muttered on their way through the palace, keeping a steady palm between her shoulder blades, “I don’t know what they were thinking. If you –”

“ _Ambassador!_ ”

Of course. Of course _he_ would show up right now, when she was at her lowest. She bit her lip, back straightening, and glanced up from her shuffling feet. Forced another shaky smile for the Crown Prince, who stood shocked at the puddles of water tracked into the palace and her chafing clothes. She probably looked a mess – hair stringy and dripping, makeup running in fat black and beige streaks down her cheeks, eyes red from holding back tears.

“What –” he gaped, composed himself, made his voice gentler. “What happened?” Wauuru opened her mouth to explain, but Yesui cut her off.

“I fell,” she ignored Waauru’s confused glancing and continued. “Into one of the ponds. Clumsy me – I hope I haven’t made too much of a mess for the servants. I’m – I’m sorry.” The prince’s gaze softened, obviously not fooled in the slightest.

“It is fine,” he said, “just water.”

“Just water,” she echoed. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and make myself more presentable.”

“Of course.”

She squeezed Waauru’s hand, a silent plea in her eyes to not make the situation worse than it already was, and bid her goodbye as she trudged down the hall to her rooms with dripping silk clinging to her skin like sweat.

The walk upstairs was hell on her self-esteem. Looking in the mirror was worse.

She finally let herself cry when she stripped off her deel and shirt, pants next, sniffing and hiccuping as she threw her boots against the wall; the leather made a wet slapping noise against the plaster and both disappeared under her bed with a solid thud. Throwing them made her feel a little better, as did changing into a pair of blessedly dry linen night clothes. Wiping off the streaks from her face, less so. She wrung out a cloth over the wash basin near her dressing table to wipe away the makeup smeared across her cheeks and under her eyes, skin red and raw from scrubbing away tears and kohl.

At least she was less of a mess. More presentable. Better than she was.

 

* * *

 

Halle saw most everything. The subtle way the Melusine brushed against the human's shoulder, pressed their foot into her ankle. She stumbled. Tripped. Tipped into the pool in a way that made her look clumsy in front of a crowd of blathering onlookers. The Melusine's viciously satisfied smile.

_Petty._

Perhaps he was angrier than he should have been.

_Calm down. Refocus. Remember what you’re here for._

He followed the human and her Marakihau – friend? The idea was foreign enough to him that he decided to simply refer to them as _the Marakihau._

_She must be cold. The ponds here are cooled. That silk looks heavy._

_Why do you care?_

He shook his head – he didn’t have time for discordant thoughts. He had a job to do. Slipping in and out of the palace had become laughably easy, but even still a little niggle of anxiety squirmed in the back of his throat as he trailed behind the two, sticking to shadows and behind tall pillars.

The Crown Prince’s voice caused him to panic, huddling in a particularly shadowed corner and praying no one heard him. At least from there, he could hear a decent amount of the conversation between the three of them, even if he couldn’t see to read their lips.

“I fell,” the human said. “Clumsy me.” Lying. Saving the Melusine’s hide.

_How kind._

He followed behind her once he was sure the Marakihau and the Crown Prince were preoccupied with their own hushed conversation; normally he’d listen, but his target was no longer the royal family. He needed answers from the human, and now, which is why he lagged just out of eyesight – it most certainly had nothing to do with the pang of pity he felt in his gut when he looked at her stringy, wet hair, and heard her voice crack when she spoke. Absolutely nothing.

She left the door to her rooms open enough that he could glance through the crack – which wasn’t wise for a variety of reasons, not the least bit because she was in the middle of undressing. He almost choked when he saw the barest hint of a sliver of tawny skin and pulled away, cheeks flushed as he pressed himself against the wall. That was – _close._ Too close. And wildly impolite.

He had the decency to wait until she was dressed – and had stopped crying audibly – to slip into her bedroom with no sound. She was preoccupied with scrubbing her face, dressed in a set of linen clothes, plain and white. They draped over her chest, thighs. Snug against her hips and ankles. Billowy. Strangely elegant, with her shirt tucked into the waistband of her braies – as if that made any sense at all. He wouldn't usually consider pajamas elegant. He was entranced, for just a moment, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. This wasn’t safe. None of this was safe.

“You shouldn’t let them bully you like that.” Halle hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until she whipped around, shocked and embarrassed, and he jumped back in surprise. They were locked into a standstill. Staring. Silent. She pursed her lips.

“Do I know you?” Did she? He certainly didn’t know her. The thought makes him snap back to reality, away from the distraction of her lips and pretty, bronze eyes.

“No,” he said. She didn’t seem surprised – more like she received an answer she already knew.

“I didn’t think so – but I’ve seen you before.” That hit him like a punch to the throat – so she _had_ seen through his glamour. “You were at the summit. Everyone looked right through you.”

“Except you.” He set his jaw and straightened, fingers twitching – his palm itched with the want for the heft of a blade. His eyes were trained on her hand, clutching the linen cloth she used to wipe the makeup from her face, stained black and still dripping into the wash basin. “Who are you? _What_ are you?”

She tensed.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He took a step forward, looming, threatening, hand resting against the scabbard hidden at his hip.

“Don’t play fool with me, girl. I can make you talk.” The human didn’t respond. She didn’t blink. Instead, she tossed the rag at him, causing him to jump – all coiled muscles ready to spring at the first sight of movement as he snatched the cloth from the air, instinct overcoming thought. He was so distracted that he didn’t see her scramble to the bed, across the mattress, and disappear behind it. At least not until she popped back up.

Holding a short bow, arrow notched and pointing right at his fat, stupid head.

So much for being safe.


	2. Í sofa dauða kasta mér

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey begins, but no one is happy about it.

Halle held up his hands, letting out a string of curses that his mother would be ashamed of if she could hear. He was fast – supernaturally so, to some degree – but from the way her muscles tensed at every sound and movement made him think he wouldn’t get far before she loosed an arrow. He wasn’t here to kill people.

_But you would, wouldn’t you?_

His jaw tensed up hard enough to ache.

“You –”

“Don’t try negotiating with me,” she said. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“That makes two of us.” So, there _was_ something more to the human delegation than he initially thought. That made things interesting, as well as complicated. He hated complicated. Too many pieces on the board, too many unraveling strings. Gods, he missed the woods.

To his surprise, she relaxed the drawstring on her bow, slowly lowering her weapon – but still notched and ready, in case he tried anything. Smart woman. He kept his hands up, as a show of good will and better faith.

“Close the door,” she said. He did, keeping an eye on her the entire time as he gently, quietly, pulled the door closed with a click that rang with an air of finality, and then they were alone.

Two soldiers eyeing each other across an open field. Queen and rook.

“What do you want?” That was the question, wasn’t it?

“Answers,” he said. It was the truth – at least partially. But she couldn’t know that. A muscle in her cheek twitched – evidently, she wasn’t pleased with his words, but it wasn’t like he could lie. Not with the threat of an arrow to the neck looming over him like a raincloud.

“Answers to what questions?” She asked – the bitter edge to her voice caught him off guard, just a bit. It sounded like a robotic and practiced response. What was her game?

“Who are you? How did you see me?”

“My name is Yesui,” that wasn’t what he asked, “and I have eyes – it’s not hard.”

“Are you being serious?”

“I never am.” The corners of her mouth quirked up, and he resisted the urge to groan and slam his head in the door. Fantastic.

“You know what I meant – I had a glamor on. You shouldn’t have been able to see me.” The smile fell away, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. He told himself he wasn’t entranced by the motion. He wasn’t.

The anxiety was causing his brain to whirl like a tornado – too many discordant and stray thoughts. He needed to calm down. Focus.

There was a period of awkward silence that Halle used to untangle the knotted yarn in his head, string by string. Smoothing out some threads, burning others. He got halfway through the tangle when she spoke again.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean I don’t know!” She was gesturing now, arrow in one hand and bow in the other, talking with her arms. “I – know things, but nothing about that. If I could tell you, I would.” Somehow, he doubted that.

“You,” he said, “are one of the worst liars I’ve ever met.” She sighed.

“Yeah, I know.” He crossed his arms over his chest – she wasn’t going to shoot him, that much he was sure about. He leaned against the wall next to the door, settling in for the long haul. They could talk. He could do this. He could be patient, sociable. Even if his thoughts were tangling into a whirlwind again and his heart was beating a steady butterfly-wing rhythm in his ribcage.

She took a deep breath.

“So,” there was something scrutinizing in her eye that made his palms sweat, “I’m not an idiot. It can’t be a coincidence that you’re here uninvited when we’re all trapped in the city.”

“Who says I’m uninvited?”

“Really? You glamored yourself at a peace summit – no one does that unless they don’t want to be noticed, and if you don’t want to be seen at a peace summit you’re not supposed to be there.” He had to give her credit – she wasn’t an idiot.

“Maybe I’m a diplomat. And shy.” At the very least, that last part was true.

“I doubt it. You’re carrying a weapon.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, in my _room!_ Not on me! It’s like you want to get arrested.” He sighed, rubbed the back of his head. Groaned when he realized he was backed into a corner, literally and figuratively. There was no game to play here that he could win, not yet at least. The queen was in position to take the pawn.

“Fine – I’m no diplomat. I wasn’t invited – and yet here I am. And,” he had to choose his next words carefully, “I may know something about the barrier around the city.” That piqued her interest. Hook line and sinker. The queen moves across the board, hovering just out of reach. Yesui bit her lip again, setting the bow and arrow on the mattress, along with herself.

“If you do, you should tell me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m adorable,” she smiled, and then gave him such a sad and pleading look that his gut flipped, “and because if no one can get out of the city, no one can reach the farms outside the walls, and city gardens can only feed so many. People will starve.”

“How is that my problem?”

“Maybe it’s not but – a little compassion goes a long way.”

_Pretty eyes. Even prettier words._

Halle sighed – he was a sucker, wasn’t he? Lured into what could have been a trap by the wiles of a clever woman, despite his mission. But it wasn’t entirely Yesui’s fault. The idea of people suffering, starving – it made his heart clench hard enough to hurt. Pathetic.

He glanced out into the hallway, making sure no one was listening.

“Come with me.” She blanched.

“I’m sorry, _what?_ ”

“Come with me,” he said, holding out his hands as if to plead for alms, “maybe we can help each other. At the very least, I can help you get out of the city – and you’ll do more good if you’re not trapped in here.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and he could see the gears turning in her head as she thought.

“Do you swear I won’t come to any harm?”

“You won’t.”

“No,” she said, holding out her hand, “do you _swear?_ ” He grimaced, staring at her hand like it was the worst thing he’d seen all week.

“You’re asking me to make an oath.”

“If that’s what it takes.” He was silent – heart pounding behind his eyes the whole long time he stared at her outstretched hand, before sighing and tentatively reaching out to clasp her forearm, long fingers gently gripping her bare flesh.

_Gods, she’s warm._

“I swear,” he said, but not looking happy about it, “no harm will come to you as long as you’re in my company.” There was the caveat – she had to stay with him to stay safe. He hoped she could do that, but just from being here with her he knew she had a wild streak.

This was bad. This was risky.

She nodded, and they pulled away from each other, his palm still tingling and warm from where his icy hands had lingered on her arm.

“Pack light, but pack warm. You have twenty minutes.”

“We’re leaving _now?_ ” She was already scrambling to put on a shirt and pants over her night clothes, heavy silk and linen. He had to give her credit – she was fast.

“When else? Your barrier problem won’t solve itself – and the longer we wait, the worse it will get.”

“You have a way to get out of here, right?” She asked, stuffing a change of clothes into her rucksack, along with a few pairs of thick wool socks. What else did she have in there? How prepared was she for the harsher climate of the north?

“I do.” She threw on a plain brown garment – similar to the one he’d seen her wear earlier, but undecorated and fur-lined for warmth, adjusting her sash and pins so she had room for the hunting knife she slipped into what he assumed was a pocket. Her bow and quiver were next, slung over her back and covered with a warm cloak of rabbit and fox furs clasped at her throat. It’d be stifling hot until they left Huatzintepec – but it was better to be a little toasty than to catch a cold.

He had to laud her on being well-equipped, and quick about it.

“What about horses? Are we walking all the way north?” He glanced away from her, causing her to pause.

“I came here on foot.” He didn’t sound sure even to himself – she pursed her lips. “Your twenty minutes is up – ask your questions when we get out of the city.”

He turned on his heel then, leaving her to grab up her rucksack and follow him, sticking to the shadowed hallways and hidden stairwells of the palace, ducking into empty rooms to avoid passing guests or guards. She was silent behind him, moving like a hunter would the few times he glanced over his shoulder to make sure she hadn’t lost him or worse, gone to the palace guards. A part of him was impressed. Mostly, he was more nervous now than he had been before.

Leaving the palace was as laughably easy as entering it. Leaving the city was another beast entirely.

 

* * *

 

The sun had mostly set by the time they reached the city streets, sticking to long shadows and avoiding people at all costs, balmy night air causing Yesui to sweat under her clothes. Even the Rayet crystals laid in lanterns along the streets did little to light their way, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt those self-same icy cold fingers wrap around her wrist. Her new friend was frigid even through her clothes.

“What are you doing?” She almost stumbled down a set of sandstone stairs, stunned as she was, as they ducked into a dark alley. A shortcut.

“It’s dark. I don’t want you stumbling.”

“Who says I can’t see in the dark?” Joking, deflecting. She was good at both.

Even if she couldn’t she saw his brows furrow, staring at her as if she was a puzzle he couldn’t solve, still holding onto her wrist.

“I –”

He stopped short at the sound of footfalls. Heavy ones. Armored. A group.

She took the liberty of glancing down the alley, blood freezing when she saw a patrol of twenty guards, Rayet lanterns in hand, shining them every which way. Talking to each other in hushed whispers in the nascent tongue of Huatzintepec. Looking.

Looking for her.

It made sense, if she was being honest. A human diplomat goes missing after an impenetrable shroud falls over the city – disappeared into the night, leaving her possessions behind? It was suspicious enough to warrant a manhunt. They had to move quickly, if they wanted to stay ahead of the patrol.

She turned to her companion but didn’t get a word out before he acted.

He grabbed her by the bicep, yanking her against the wall of a house, well-concealed by shadows. She almost yelped in a mix of fear and indignation, until he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, pressing her face against the soft fur at his shoulder, and Yesui was too distracted by how surprisingly _nice_ he smelled to do much besides blink a few times. A combination of mint and cedar wood, subtle and strangely calming. It reminded her of winters back home.

Face pressed against her father’s furs as he read her a story, snowflakes congregating in drifts outside their _ger._ The calm crackle from the fire pit.

By the time she’d managed to regain her wits and pull back just enough to glare up at him, still feeling his hand cupped against the base of her skull, the patrol had moved on. Passed over them. The lights from their lanterns no longer brightened the space, and she had to squint to see his face under his hood – she wondered, briefly, how he seemed to navigate so well in such inky dark.

He seemed to realize how close they were and prickled, letting her step away and smooth out her deel.

“Do you mind telling me,” he hissed, adjusting his hood and glancing back out of the alley, “why every city guard in a twenty-mile radius is looking for you now?” She swallowed, feeling her palms begin to sweat – she couldn’t tell him; it’d put her in more risk than she cared to admit.

“I’m one of a handful of humans in this city – of course people would notice if I disappeared.”

“Maybe – but not the entire city guard.”

“It must be my winning smile and friendly personality.”

He snorted, poking his head out from between the two buildings before he tugged her along by the wrist.

“Will you _stop_ manhandling me?” She huffed, trying to tug her hand away to no avail. “I’m coming with you willingly!”

“ _Don’t be so loud._ ” He sighed, turning down a side street, eerily familiar with the twisting walkways of the city. “Can you actually see in the dark?”

“No, I can’t see in the dark!” Could he? Odd.

“Then keep hold of me! I won’t be responsible for you falling down any of these damned stairs and breaking your neck.” Well, she couldn’t really argue with that. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“What did you do?” She asked in a whisper, after a period of uncomfortable silence.

“How do you mean?”

“They didn’t see us.”

“Maybe I’m very good at hiding.” It seemed that she wasn’t the only one who was good at deflection; but Yesui wasn’t stupid. She had a sneaking suspicion that the same magic – or whatever it was – that allowed him to fade into the background at the summit had saved both their hides just then. She resolved to get the answer out of him later, when they weren’t traveling through the city at a mad dash.

It felt like hours before they reached the bridge leading to the exit gates, vaulting over walls and avoiding the main thoroughfares, all the while she was guided by a steady grip and the vague outline of a hooded figure mere feet away; fortunately for them both, it was still the dead of night. Her new friend knelt to a grate in the street, working on prying it open as quietly as possible while she stood nearby, watching for incoming pedestrians or guards.

She spotted Mukondi a few yards away by chance, talking to one of the guardsmen, hair a mess, nightgown tucked into her pants, and covered in an oil cloak. She looked like she’d been crying. Yesui bit her lip and strained to hear their conversation, catching snippets here and there.

“We’ll find her, Lady Ambassador.” Mukondi sniffed in response, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

The guard walked away then with an awkward pat to Mukondi’s arm, and she chewed on her lower lip in thought.

“Mukondi,” she whispered, loud enough to be heard that far away. Her companion’s head shot up, eyes wide with fear.

“What are you doing?”

“My friend – I have to talk to her.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Please?” She put on her best pleading face, trying to appeal to whatever compassion he had. “She’s worried about me.” He stared at her for a good long while, before sighing and pressing himself into the shadows.

“Go. But don’t think about running.”

“I did agree to come willingly.” He didn’t respond – simply watched her glance up and down the street to make sure Mukondi was alone before sprinting across the cobblestones.

“Yesui! Waauru told me there was an incident at the palace and I went up to your room to check on you but you weren’t there and then no one had seen you and – and – “She took a deep breath, planting her hands on Yesui’s cheeks and sniffing, eyes red-rimmed and glistening. “Where have you _been?_ ” She smiled in a way she hoped was reassuring, squeezing Mukondi’s hands.

“I’m okay. I just – I have to go for a bit. It’s important.”

“Go where?”

“North. I might be able to help us.” Mukoni’s brows knitted together, and she glanced down the street.

“North? How are you going to leave the city? We’re all trapped.”

“I’m not sure yet,” she said, and was surprised at the confidence in her voice, “but I’ll figure something out. Promise me you’ll stay safe?” Mukondi pursed her lips, before nodding. Yesui gave her hands a reassuring squeeze before she stepped away, adjusting her rucksack and beaming to try and lighten the mood.

“If you leave – Yesui, that implies a lot of things about us. Are you sure now is the time?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I? It’s either leave and figure it out later or stay and wait for the city to turn on us. You know that.”

“I,” Mukondi took a deep breath, steeling herself, “I’ll keep the prince and the delegation occupied, but I won’t be able to do that forever. And you better come back to me in one piece, understand?” Yesui nodded, glad that she had at least one person on her side. “Stay safe, Yesui.”

Those were the last words they exchanged before Yesui disappeared back into the shadows with a final smile, dropping down into the open grate to meet her waiting companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo!! lotsa dialogue this chapter lmfao sorry about that


	3. Er ek helvegin fer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two people walk through a sewer and some magic happens.

The tunnels under the city were dark, dank, and cramped beyond cramped – but Yesui was confident that her companion had a plan. At least, she _hoped_ he had a plan. Otherwise this would be awfully awkward.

Thankfully this part of the sewers seemed to not have been used for a while.

She reached out, floundering a bit for something to hold onto before she found his hand, causing him to jump and yank it away, much to her chagrin – she pouted. Something she was sure he could see, given the fact that he hadn’t lit a lantern once this whole mad dash but seemed to navigate well enough in the dark. An awkward cough. He took her wrist and wrapped her fingers around his clothed forearm. Solid muscles. Something to cling to.

“Thanks,” she said, speaking in a whisper for no particular reason.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, tacking on a humiliated-sounding ‘please’ at the end for good measure. The smile that tugged at the corner of her lips wasn’t entirely wholesome, but she liked to tease.

The tunnels were blessedly cool. She kept her cloak bundled up in her free hand, guided by a steady hand – arm? – in the dark. A few times she had the irrational fear that she’d lost him, but one squeeze to his sleeve set those fears to ease, even if she could feel him glare at her, even without the use of her eyes.

“Could you – talk to me? While we walk?”

“Why?”

Yesui squirmed, heat rushing to her cheeks.

“I don’t like the dark.” A sigh. Silence. She wondered if she’d offended him somehow, before he spoke again.

“What – what do you want to talk about.”

“Anything.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down.” If she could have thrown her arms up, she would have.

“Fine – how about you? What’s your family like? Do you have any friends? Where are you from? Do you have a favorite color? How is your hair so shiny?”

“That’s – slow down!”

“Do you have a favorite animal?”

“Bears.”

“What _kind_ of bears?” The innuendo in her voice was enough to make him sigh, and he turned left – at least, she thought it was left; it was hard to tell in the dark.

“Grizzly bears.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“A – dog. A dog. Named Tyr.” He sounded unsure – how could he be unsure of whether his dog was a dog? She decided to file that away for later. Another question for another time.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Oh, come on!” She pressed closer, causing him to stumble a bit and whirl around, cool breath on her cheek – they were so close. Briefly, at least, before he staggered away, his wrist slipping from her grip. “I told you my name! You could at least have the courtesy to tell me yours.”

“No.” Her hand flapped around, devoid of the familiar weight of cloth covered muscle. “You’re too personal! Just – stop asking me questions about _me!”_

“You’re not personal enough! What kind of guy refuses to tell another person their name!” She was starting to panic, fingers groping at empty air – the tunnels echoed. She couldn’t hear where his voice was coming from. Her heart sped up, hammering in her ears. “Where did you _go?_ Hey!” Her voice must have cracked, because he swore, gently touching his fingertips to her palm before he tangled their fingers together.

Yesui let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, stepping a little closer. His presence was comforting in the dark.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “Just – no, there’s no excuse for that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s – fine. I think. I’m okay.” More silence.

“Are we –”

“Still holding hands? Yeah.” He coughed, gently prying her fingers away from his so he could plant her palm on his wrist. She gave it a gentle squeeze, and they walked. For what seemed like hours, they walked. Until her feet hurt and the cool air in the tunnels seemed oppressive. Her mind wandered while they trudged ever onward, concocting daydreams. Trying to think of her new friend’s name.

Bjorn? He seemed like a Bjorn.

“Can I try guessing your name?” He sighed.

“If it keeps you calm, sure.”

“Bjorn?”

“Gods, no. Do you know how many Bjorns I know in my life? Too many.”

“Floki.”

“I have a cousin named Floki, but that name doesn’t belong to me.”

“Ralph.” He stopped, snorted. Yesui thought that was his approximation of a laugh.

“Ralph? Really?”

“I was trying to make you laugh.” She squeezed his wrist and grinned, nearly planting her face right into his back when he stopped abruptly. She had to blink a few times to realize that there was _light._ Dull and sickly green, but light, nonetheless. Where did he get a lantern?

“We’re here,” he murmured.

It wasn’t a lantern. Yesui saw that when he turned just a little, the Rayet crystal in his hand floating suspended in smoke, twisting and swirling as if surrounded by molasses. She blinked again. Magic.

“Where did you get that?” She snapped, hands on her hips now that she could see, even if just barely. “We’ve been walking in the dark for forever!” She could see him grimace under his cloak.

“I didn’t need it.” Huffing, she threw her hands in the air and settled for watching him as he stepped forward – illuminating a massive, twisting shape. A serpent. The horns on its goat-like head scraped the ceiling of the tunnel. She thought she could see pointed, razor-sharp teeth grasping the end of a frilled tail as it circled the exit, blocking their passage, creating a gaping hole – inside the hole was… _something._ It looked like a dark pool of water, so black as to swallow all the light from the Rayet crystal, pale reflections of the same wispy, smoky magic glaring back at her. She didn’t see herself in the mirror, but her companion was there. Ghostly and distorted.

Something about it was _wrong._ Very wrong. Looking at it made her head spin, as if she’d just stepped off the ledge of a building.

“What – is that?”

“Jörmungandr,” is what she thought he said, quiet as a whisper, “it’s the beginning of the barrier. The beginning, and the end.” He reached forward, and she found herself sucking in a breath, cold sweat running an icy finger down the back of her neck. Waiting to see what happened.

He paused. Retracted his hand. Held the crystal out to her.

“Touch the crystal,” _there was something wrong with his eyes –_ she swallowed thickly and pressed two of her fingers into the smooth, shell-like surface of the Rayet, watching the smoke change just a bit, swirling and bright. Not churning, like it was, but moving like the gentle roll and yaw of waves. Speckled with white. Like stars. She pulled her hand back.

Was he blushing?

He cleared his throat and slowly pushed the Rayet crystal into pool, and Yesui watched it disappear into the dark. A sacrifice. She shivered at how accurate the word seemed for the situation.

The pool rippled, swirled, bubbled – she took a step back with how volatile it was just underneath the surface, until the dark stopped churning. She wasn’t sure what happened, but the surface looked glossier somehow. More welcoming. As welcoming as a dark, stagnant pool of magic could be. She swallowed gain, forcing her muscles to relax one by one, locked up with tension as they were.

Her companion reached out, taking her by the wrist and walking forward. She didn’t struggle, only screwed her eyes shut as she slipped through.

Eternal blue sky, it was _wet._ Wet and tacky and semi-coagulated all at once. Like a pool of old blood.

The vertigo of falling through it made her want to vomit, but soon she was on solid ground again, dry and none the worse for wear. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, head still reeling from the experience as she glanced up at the city walls, and for a moment she thought she could see the shroud that fell over Huatzintepec. A glimmer, before it was gone again.

They’d passed through the shroud. Now the hard part began


	4. Ok lagið sem ek stíga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halle tries not to form human connections.

Being outside seemed more daunting than it should have been – now she was here, out of the city walls and the barrier. With a stranger. A stranger who was looking at her funny in the pale-yellow light of the sunrise, as if he’d never seen her in the morning before. She blinked.

“What?” She swore she saw pink on his cheeks before he turned away, mumbling.

“Nothing.” Yesui almost clocked him – the stoicism was starting to get old.

“You’re insufferable! You won’t tell me what’s going on, you won’t tell me your name and every time I ask a question, you dodge it!” She tailed after his retreating back as he walked, gathering his cloak around himself to avoid being spotted. They’d come out of a sewer entrance on the far side of the city, disused and away from prying eyes, but he still seemed cautious. Paranoid, even.

“We just spent the night walking through a sewer – you could at least _pretend_ to be a little friendlier.” Perhaps it was childish, but she was cranky from the lack of sleep and the lack of contact. She wasn’t used to be rebuffed like that – everyone liked her. Why couldn’t he?

“We’re not friends. My oath was to keep you protected, not entertain you.” Yesui stopped. Crossed her arms over her chest. Planted her heels in the dirt so she wouldn’t be budged by force or otherwise. Her companion sighed and turned, staring at her with a challenge in his eyes that she matched inch for inch. Her chin tilted up defiantly, daring him. He huffed.

“ _Woman,_ ” he warned, muscles tense to spring into a fighting stance. “Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.” She mimicked his posture, feet shoulder-width apart, arms tense at her sides. It had been awhile since she’d wrestled – she’d have to be careful.

“This is going to hurt me more than it’ll hurt you,” she said. Her words seemed to throw him for the briefest second. That was all the opening she needed.

Yesui surged forward, wrapping her arms around his thigh and pushing her shoulder into his stomach – he was tall. She was lower to the ground. He fell over like a dead leaf in a strong breeze. She didn’t let go.

They landed with her shoulder jammed into his gut and all his wind knocked out of him with a dry wheeze, coughing and rolling over to curl into a ball in the dirt when she stood up, looming over him with her hands on her hips.

“You’re insane,” he said, taking in great heaves of air, “absolutely insane.”

“I can get _more_ insane, if you want.”

“Please, for the love of every god, do not.”

“Now you’re going to answer my questions,” she said, “all of them. And remember that you gave me your word I wouldn’t come to any harm while I’m with you – so you can’t hurt me.” She thought he swore under his breath.

“And if I refuse?”

She rolled him onto his back with her foot sat on his stomach, crossing her arms over her chest and trying not to be too wickedly satisfied at the way his face lit up red, a sputtering noise coming out of his mouth. The morning light caught in his hair, and she was suddenly glad that there were no people around – it was oddly open, a mostly flat plain cleared around the city walls and dense jungle on the other side; she wondered what they looked like.

“Then we’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m stronger than you.”

“And you made an oath.” She could see him grind his teeth, arms held stiffly at his sides as if he didn’t want anything to do with her – probably torn between not wanting to touch her and throwing her off.

“ _Fine,”_ he hissed, “what do you want to know?”

“What’s your name?”

“Halle,” a pause, “Dalgaard.”

“Alright, Halle Dalgaard – where are we going?”

“North.” One frown from her had him sighing and elaborating. “My people –”

“Your people?”

“I can’t tell you who. I’m – bound. Oathbound. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.” She chewed her lower lip, rubbing her chin – if he couldn’t tell her… What had she gotten herself into? She let him continue, eager to know everything she could. “My people have a camp on the border of Ijiraat territory – if we can make it north, we might have a way to help you with your barricade problem. Which, by the way, is not going to solve itself.” She remembered the shimmering, soap bubble ripples of the barrier and the way the stars were silent around it, as if stifled or scared of speaking in its presence.

Halle had a point.

“And how do I know you’re not playing me?” That was the question, wasn’t it?

“You don’t.”

“I was afraid of that.” Yesui sighed, brushing her hair over her shoulder and twisting a lock of it around her finger, contemplating. Wondering just how badly she screwed up with agreeing to come with him, if he was oathbound not to tell her what his purpose was in the city or who they were meeting up north. It seemed like she’d lost at chess – except there was no board, there were only two pieces, and she’d gone and flubbed the whole game six rounds ago.

Reluctantly, she let her foot off his stomach and held out a hand to help him up. He stared at it with no small amount of offense, before pushing himself up on his hands and standing on his own, which left her slightly deflated, but otherwise none the worse for wear.

“Are you done?” He said, shaking dust out of his hair. “Can we go now?” She only nodded, feeling the sun already beating down on her heavy furs and wanting for the balmy shade of the nearby jungle.

“You know your way around?”

“How do you think I got here?” He made a good point, and Yesui followed him obediently, trekking across the barren plain and into the overgrown brush. She spared one glance behind her before they disappeared into the trees, no evidence of their exit left behind. The portal had closed behind them as soon as they’d stepped into the sun. They were jungle ghosts, leaving the city with a whispered promise to return.

 

* * *

 

 

Halle had to hand it to the woman, she was strong. His shoulder still hurt from where he’d landed on it just slightly wrong. He would not let her catch him off-guard like that again.

That included slowing down so they walked shoulder to shoulder, keeping his back from being exposed, which she seemed oddly delighted at; he didn’t understand her. He didn’t understand how she could beam and stare at birds and bugs with iridescent wings fluttering by or the way sunlight dappled the leaves on a fern as they walked, or the boundless optimism rolling off her in waves as they trudged through muck and sweat clear through their layers.

He still remembered the way the crystal reacted to her touch. The warmth. The stars that dappled the swirling, dancing aura.

There was something off about her. He convinced himself that it was a dangerous unknown. Certainly not beautiful, like he thought when their magic meshed, or when they exited the sewers and she was washed in morning glow and he found himself regretting almost leaving her behind, lost in the dark.

_But you would have. An oath-breaker. Much like your father._

He clenched his jaw and trudged on, equipment heavy with the heat and humidity and the _sweat._ Gods, he hated warm weather. So very much. His canteen was half empty by the time he told her to stop so they could rest their tired feet. The sun marked their time – half past noon, according to Yesui. How she knew that, he had no idea, but it checked out, and he certainly wasn’t impressed. Not at all. They sat on a few large rocks and she removed her boots, then her socks, bare feet settling in the mud as she sighed with relief.

“Are your socks wet?” He knew that sometimes it was best to remove your socks or stockings to avoid jungle rot.

“Everything’s wet,” she giggled, and he rolled his eyes, “but no. I just hate wearing shoes.”

“Sounds dangerous.” Yesui stared at him, and Halle found himself staring back, wondering if she was challenging him again. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, caution itching at the back of his brain.

“You’re being oddly chatty,” she said, and he blinked. Then flushed. Took a drink from his canteen and refused to look her way.

“Must be the heat.” He heard her snort from beside him. “Put your shoes back on, we have a ways to go.”

They walked for another hour. Rested. Walked again. It was grueling, and he could feel her getting more and more anxious the longer it took, but the jungle was deep and dense, and they had to step over and through thickets and tangled vines. He refused when she offered to cut a trail through – it was better to not leave a trace and pick a path through instead, following deer trails and the dragging swathes of vegetation left bare by some of the monster slugs that called the jungle their home. Halle shuddered at the thought of meeting one of them.

It was dusk and they weren’t even halfway through the jungle when she told him to stop.

“Why?”

“My waterskin is empty,” she shook the leather bladder to make her point, pointing at the retreating sun with her other hand. “And it’s getting dark. Walking at night isn’t wise here, I’m tired, and we need time to set up hammocks and a fire.”

“Why hammocks?”

“If you want to sleep on the ground and wake up covered in fire ants, be my guest.” She shrugged, and he huffed indignantly at being proved wrong _yet again._ He wasn’t impressed.

He wasn’t.

Halle was unaccustomed to surviving in this kind of wild – the feeling was different. It wasn’t the frigid, barren north, which had an entirely different set of challenges. Here, he had to worry about how quickly he was going through his water supply and mosquitoes, and jungle rot, and a million other things that didn’t exist in the north. Back home, he could lose his toes to frostbite. Here, he’d lose them to gangrene. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t nearly as quick.

He felt weirdly useless as he watched her lash ropes to two trees and tie a blanket between them, laying her bedroll on top.

He could start a fire. He was good at that.

Finding good, dry wood was difficult – everything was either torturously damp or torturously full of mushrooms and wet moss, but he managed somehow, returning with arms full of kindling to find her tying vines together and slinging branches over them. A makeshift rain fly.

“Where did you learn to do this?” He focused on building the kindling and wood up into a teepee shape, glancing at her periodically as she bustled around.

“Going places and doing things.” Was it her turn to be cagey now? He raised a brow, finding her smiling at him, which made him blush and go back to trying to start a fire. “I was in the army – we trained to survive in a lot of places.”

“The army?”

“If you can call it that – we were disaster relief for allied countries or an honor guard for the Khan and other important folk. I’ve been a lot of places.”

“Like jungles.”

“Like jungles.” She smiled at him again, and he found himself desperately trying not to smile back, smoke blessedly obscuring his vision and saving him from the upward twitch of his lips. “We were taught that self-reliance was our best tool – instead of rations they gave us fishing hooks and taught us which plants were safe to eat wherever we went.”

“I’ll remember that if we run out of food.” Silence. She’d moved on to setting up another sleeping area. For him.

_How kind._

“How long is our trip?” Yesui’s voice was quiet, and he could hear the apprehension. It was too late to turn back now. If she was having second thoughts, he couldn’t help her.

“I don’t know. It’s at least three days out of this jungle on foot, maybe more. And then more time getting north to my camp. I’d say that if we’re quick, it’ll be a week and a half if all goes well. And it won’t.”

“A week and a half,” she echoed, almost too quiet to hear. Her fingers fiddled at the knot on the tree, smoothing over the rope, “if all goes well.” Halle rubbed his jaw, watching the fire climb even higher, licking at the canopy of leaves, the sun in its death throes. She was nervous. Scared. For herself, for her friend back in the city. The city itself.

He felt bad for his part in this.

“They’ll be fine,” he said, after a long period of silence, standing from his spot near the fire, legs cramped from kneeling. “The Empress won’t let anyone hurt them unless she’s sure the delegation is behind the barrier. And you’re not.” He could see Yesui bite her lip now, the way her eyes roamed, wet. Holding back tears. Halle let out a breath and grabbed his blanket from his knapsack to throw over the ridge line she’d tied, and his bedroll on top of that.

“I promise. Now get to sleep. We have a long walk tomorrow.” He feels her hand on his arm and tenses.

_Gods, why is she so warm._

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“You should take off your clothes.” He almost choked on his own spit.

“I should _what._ ”

“If you sleep in your wet clothes, you’ll get hypothermia or worse. Let them dry by the fire.”

“I’m not taking off my clothes in front of you!” Her face lit up cherry red, and she covered her mouth with her free hand. Hiding a smile.

“What? No no – I meant – just take them off when I turn around! And no peeking!” Yesui let go of him then, and he turned abruptly on his heel, waiting until he heard the shuffling of clothes and clasps being undone to hurriedly peel off his own sweat-soaked layers. He hated that she had a point. He pulled on a spare pair of linens he kept in his pack and hopped into his hammock, back turned towards the fire and face turned away from Yesui so she couldn’t see him blush.

“Goodnight.” Halle didn’t respond. He was too busy trying to convince himself that he didn’t care and he wasn’t growing fond of his human companion. He shouldn’t comfort her. Shouldn’t get close. He didn’t need friends, let alone a human woman from a far-off land who was possibly detrimental to his mission and his health. He could convince himself of that.

He was almost successful by the time his eyes slipped closed, stars winking through the gaps in the leaves. Like the Rayet crystal earlier, when her fingers brushed against it. Twinkling and beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it most certainly is not sunday anymore but we're updating anyways yall!!!

**Author's Note:**

> if anybody speaks old norse/norrønt and can tell me how to improve the translation from norwegian, that'd be swell!!


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